


Ice Cream Mann

by Firestar12



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: 2fort, And it's kind of like Halloween mode, Basically, Battle, Because he's barely a character, But I had fun writing it, But I wanted an extra element, But he's an ice cream man, Except its not Halloween, GET IT, Gen, I came up with this "OC", Ice Cream, Ice cream mann, In heavy quotations, It's mostly focused on the mercs, Original idea I know, So the ice cream man serves special ice cream during battles, Teufort, When the spells are around, ctf, special effects, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 19:50:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18184976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firestar12/pseuds/Firestar12
Summary: One day when the BLU and RED team are at 2fort (even though I spell it Teufort the entire time), an ice cream truck of all things comes blasting in like nobody's business. And it serves special effect ice cream to the mercs during battles, basically acting as non-Halloween time spells. To be honest, it's not even that strong of a story element here, I had way more fun just writing all the mercenaries and trying to keep up with 18 characters, so I hope you all enjoy this slightly irregular day at 2fort!





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just want to preface this fanfic with letting all you know that I didn't exactly follow the characters' personalities to the letter (I've also never read the comics so the best background I have is the "Meet the..." videos and random tidbits I've picked up), but I hope this won't affect your enjoyment of the fic. That's all I have to say for now, enjoy!

The noise of blaring music cut through the silence that had fallen over the two bases in Teufort in the early morning. No missions had been called yet and both sides were glad to take advantage of the quiet. Be it through sleeping or working on new projects to get ahead of their opponents, the BLUs and REDs were in a tentative truce. One that would shatter once they were given the orders to fight again, but that was an everyday occurrence. 

What was not an everyday occurrence was the jingle many of the mercenaries hadn’t heard since their childhoods drawing nearer to the war zone.

“Now what’s this noise?” An Australian in red questioned aloud despite being alone in the camper van he currently resided in. Peering into the cab of the van as the music grew louder, Sniper watched in his rear view mirror as a pink and white van barreled closer. “What the-?” 

“What is zat racket?” The RED team’s spy grumbled, his early morning reading and smoke being disturbed by the high pitched noise and his teammates’ own confusion on the matter. The Frenchman poked his head out of his smoking room, those on his team who still had been sleeping doing similarly in a much groggier fashion. It seemed most of his team were congregating in the kitchen, and slowly, the spy followed suit. 

“ICE CREAM” Outside, the blaring jingle continued, but the noise in the BLU team’s base nearly drowned it out. Soldier was standing on the kitchen table shouting about ice cream while the engineer tried to calm him down in vain. Scout was halfway out of his bedroom door, a look of panic on his face as he struggled to stay balanced on a single foot while tugging his shoe on. 

“Hurs hurrm?” (Ice cream?) Pyro’s voice was muffled by their mask, their head tilting in a questioning manner. 

“Git off that godang table, Solly, or yer gonna be the next one fixin the damn thing.” The frustrated engineer said, shouting just to be heard over the loud American. 

“Vat is he on about, anyvay?” A confused medic asked, his question lost to all but Scout, who was now hopping on his other foot to pull the other shoe on. 

“Da ice cream man is here! And he ain’t gonna be for much longer if all you morons keep on chattin ya big heads off!” The youngest team member complained, directing his complaints to the soldier and engineer still by the table. 

“Zat doesn’t make sense at all. Why would anyone, let alone some “ice cream man”, be out here in ze middle of nowhere?” The BLU spy, much like his RED counterpart, was annoyed that his private time had gotten interrupted. 

“Hell if I know, Spy. All I know is dat ice cream ain’t gonna stick around and it probably ain’t comin back either, so I’m gonna make da damn most outta it.” Scout responded to the Frenchman, not really answering his question. With his other shoe finally slipping onto his foot, Scout made a dash for the door, a shout of “later losers!” following the slam of the door. 

“Hrrs hrrrm!” (Ice cream!) The RED Pyro sounded excited behind their gas mask despite no one being able to make out what they were saying. 

“No one can understand yer mumbles, pal.” The RED team’s Scout said, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. If he had been able to see Pyro’s face, he almost certainly would have received an exaggerated eye roll. 

“Hr hrrs hrrrm han hs hrr” (The ice cream man is here) The pyro attempted again, but received no better a result as Scout merely gave a deadpan look in reply. Pyro grumbled something incomprehensible behind their mask, shaking their head. 

“Tha ice cream man’s here!” 

“Hrrs hrrt hr hrrst hrrd!” (That’s what I just said!) Pyro said, throwing their hands up in exasperation. 

Demoman continued on, unfazed by his teammate’s frustration. “Come on, lads! What better way ta start tha day ‘an with ice cream?” 

“I thought you only said zat about alcohol.” Spy mocked the Scot, his attempt to elicit a reaction in vain. The Frenchman rolled his eyes and retrieved a cigarette from his cigarette case. “Well, whatever. Go and get your “ice cream”, I will enjoy your absence.” Spy said, lighting the cigarette and taking a slow drag of it. 

“Heavy would not mind ice cream to beat heat.” The large Russian spoke up, pushing himself up from his chair at the RED’s table. 

“Ha ha, hrr!” (Ha ha, yeah!) Pyro cheered, getting over their annoyance at their other teammates pretty quickly thanks to the prospect of ice cream. “Hrrs hrr!” (Let’s go!) With a skip to their step, the pyromaniac led the way out the front door.

“I WILL NOT LET A BUNCH OF MAGGOTS BEAT ME TO THAT ICE CREAM TRUCK!” An explosion followed Soldier’s shout, which was then followed by screaming. 

The BLU team’s scout, whose baseball cap was askew on his head, looked up at the nearing screams, expression becoming panicked. “No, no, no, wait!” Scout shouted, dodging to the side too late as his teammate landed on top of him. The Bostonian felt hands around his throat, cutting off his oxygen supply as Soldier shook him like a ragdoll. 

“THOUGHT YOU COULD BEAT ME, STRING BEAN? WELL I HAVE SOME NEWS FOR YOU! I WILL NOT BE BEATEN BY THE LIKES OF YOU!” The American jabbed a finger in his compatriot’s face while Scout struggled to throw the larger man off. 

“Get da hell offa me, Soldier! Da truck’s gonna be gone by da time you strangle me ta death!” 

“Ja, and ze respawn iz not active yet, so ve vill be down a scout in ze beginning of our next battle.” The German accented voice of the Medic called out, said man walking towards the two with the BLU team’s Engineer, Spy, and Pyro in tow. 

“Per’aps it would not be so bad wizout Scout for a while. Ze silence might do us all some good.” Spy spoke up, a cloud of smoke dissipating into the air in the process. 

“Oh, screw you, Spy.” Scout cussed his teammate out while Soldier glared at the three. 

“YOU MAGGOTS ARE TRYING TO OUTSMART ME AND GET TO MY ICE CREAM FIRST! IT WILL NOT HAPPEN!” Soldier shouted, jumping off Scout and picking up his rocket launcher once again. 

“Solly, we ain’t tryna do anythin of the sort, jus put the launcher down, an-” Engie’s reasoning was cut off as Soldier fired another rocket at the ground just by his feet, blasting him away from the group. The Texan let out a heavy sigh, pinching his brow with his index finger and thumb. “Why do I even bother?” 

Pyro patted Engie’s back consolingly, earning another sigh from the engineer as his hand dropped. “Thanks, Pyro. Now,” Engie put a hand on Pyro’s shoulder, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth, “what say we get you some ice cream before that doggone Solly eats it all, eh?” 

“Hurr hurrr!” (All right!) With a thumbs up and excited affirmative from the masked being, Engie chuckled, patting Pyro’s shoulder before letting his hand drop. 

“Atta boy. Heh, might wanna get a move on, Scout. Think ya lost yer lead.” The Texan said, chuckling as he and Pyro walked past the injured scout. Scout glared back at them, rubbing at his throat. 

“Ya jus gonna stand there and watch or what, doc?” Scout’s voice sounded a bit hoarse from the abuse on his windpipe, though he spoke no less quietly than he typically did as he turned his glare towards the remaining medic and spy. 

“Vell it iz not as zough I carry mein medigun vith me everyvhere I go. I zink you vill live as long as you stop being such a baby.” Medic remarked, earning a chuckle from the Frenchman who had been watching the entire exchange in relative silence. 

Scout glowered at his two teammates. “I oughta bash all yer heads in.” He grumbled more obscenities under his breath as he pushed himself up and dusted off. Scout flipped Medic and Spy off for good measure before continuing on towards the jingle of the truck at a much slower pace. 

“Well ain’t that just a sight.” The RED team’s sniper mumbled to himself, putting his camper van into park when the pink and white ice cream truck stopped in the middle of Teufort. The Australian man had followed the music blaring vehicle once it passed him and had kept well on its tail until it turned off road and cut its engine in the middle of the two bases. Now Sniper was just watching from a distance, sipping from his mug of coffee and waiting for something to happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's the first "chapter". I don't really consider them chapters since I'm more or less posting everything at once, but yeah, hope it's good enough that you'll consider continuing to read!


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of screaming broke the monotonous tone of the ice cream truck’s music as the BLU soldier flew over the truck, missing his target entirely. “Well then.” The RED's sniper watched from the safety of his van as the enemy soldier landed heavily on the ground, picking himself up quickly and turning towards the truck. Before he could start moving towards it again, something that the Australian couldn’t see made him stop and turn back around. 

“Hnrmhr hrhrd!” (Enemy ahead!) The RED team’s Pyro, backed by the RED demoman, heavy, and scout, had almost reached the supposed ice cream truck when one of their enemies came flying in out of nowhere. The BLU soldier turned to face them, rocket launcher up on his shoulder and aiming at them. The RED team hadn’t thought to bring their weapons since there wasn’t a battle going on, but now it was seeming like a poor choice. 

“An’ whatta ye think yer doin ‘ere, Solly? This’s our side’a Teufort.” Demo spoke up, single eye glaring towards Soldier. 

“I AM GETTING ICE CREAM BEFORE ANYONE ELSE. I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU REDS ARE DOING, BUT BACK AWAY FROM MY ICE CREAM TRUCK AND YOU MAY NOT GET BLOWN TO SMITHEREENS.” Soldier warned the four, aiming his launcher at each in turn. Without much of an option, the four slowly backed off, though none were happy about it. 

“We could take ‘im. Who da hell does he think he is orderin us around like dat?” The RED’s scout grumbled, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. 

“A man witta rocket launcher’s who he t’inks ‘e is.” Demo replied, glaring at Soldier’s back as the other turned away to pursue the mysterious truck. 

“We will wait for puny man to leave. And when battle comes, he will be crushed.” Heavy made the decision for the group, crossing his arms as he watched the soldier knock on the truck’s metal shutters.

As Soldier knocked on the ice cream truck’s shutters, the BLU pyro and engineer joined the fray. The Texan’s expression grew grim at the sight of the RED mercenaries, though Pyro didn’t seem fazed. “Hurrhur!” (Hello!) Pyro waved towards their RED counterpart cheerily, earning a scoff from the RED scout and a returned wave from the other pyromaniac. 

“Da hell ‘e think he is tryna make friends?” Scout was all but ignored as his teammate stepped closer to the gathering BLUs, bouncing on the balls of their feet. 

“Hrrs hrrrm!” (Ice cream!) 

“Hutrs hur hurs hurrm hurhurhurrr!” (Let’s get ice cream together!) The BLU pyro looked back towards Engie, before looking back towards their RED counterpart. “Hunhr hrn hurr hur hurf hrf hrs.” (Engie can pay for both of us.) 

“Ha ha! Hrhrr!” (Ha ha! Alright!) The RED mask wearer said, nodding and giving a thumbs up to who was supposed to be an enemy. 

“What da hell’re dose two freaks doin?” The BLU team’s scout, who had finally caught up to see the commotion unfold, asked aloud. 

“It vould appear zey are befriending one anozer.” Medic observed, coming to a stop at Scout’s side. He rubbed his chin as he observed the two pyromaniacs having a conversation no one else could understand. It was quite interesting. 

Spy stopped at Scout’s other side. “Freaks of nature tend to get along. After all, no one besides ze labourer will speak wiz zem.” The Frenchman said, discarding the butt of his cigarette and rubbing it into the ground with the heel of his shoe. He straightened his tie and stood up straighter, making eye contact with the enemy REDs. “And what iz it zat we ‘ave here? Why have ze dirty REDs come out to play on zis fine day?” 

“Could ask ye tha same thing, ye bloody spy. I t’ink we know why we’re all out here, though.” Demo responded, giving the same one eyed glare to the spy as he had to Soldier’s back. 

“Hah, yeah, obviously ta kick yer sorry butts back ta yer base!” The BLU scout said, directing the comment at his RED counterpart. His counterpart’s eyes narrowed and he cracked his neck from side to side, stepping forward from his group. 

“You wanna go, tough guy? Let’s go, right now.” The RED scout lowered into a fighting stance, gesturing his opponent to take the bait, which he gladly did. 

“Hah, bring it, chucklehead!” Medic rolled his eyes at the childish antics of the two youngest mercenaries. 

“Remember, ze respawn iz not active right now! I am beginning to zink Spy iz right, zough. Perhaps ze quiet could do us all some good.” The doctor said, his statement ultimately ignored as he settled in to watch the show. 

The BLU engineer watched warily as his teammate made friends with the enemy. Engie liked to believe he had begun to understand what Pyro was saying when they spoke, but the conversation between the two pyromaniacs gave him his doubts. The most the Texan was able to make out from the conversation was the word “ice cream” and his name, which he probably wouldn’t have even picked up had his pyro not turned to look at him. 

Unable to take the uncertainty any longer, Engie stepped up to his teammate and placed a hand on their shoulder, getting Pyro to turn and look at him with a tilted head. “Pyro, what is it, exactly, that yer talkin’ ta that RED about?” Engie wanted to ask them if they knew the RED team was supposed to be their enemies but thought against it, instead holding Pyro’s gaze. 

Pyro perked up. “Hurr hur hurr hrs hurf hurs hurrrm?” (Will you buy us both ice cream?) 

“Hrrs?” (Please?) The RED Pyro spoke up as well, clasping their hands in front of them and tilting their head from where they still stood a couple dozen feet away. Engie’s hand fell from Pyro’s shoulder, moving to scratch the back of his neck as his expression flickered between confusion and concern. 

“I, ah, is it ‘bout tha ice cream?” Engie didn’t entirely shoot in the dark, since he could make out the word “ice cream” again, but he wasn’t sure what they were trying to get at. 

“Uh huh!” Pyro nodded vigorously in approval before pointing to themself, then to their RED counterpart, before making a show of opening up the pouch on their belt and flipping it over only for nothing to come out. After the show, Pyro pointed towards their teammate’s pouch and then gestured towards the ice cream truck that Soldier was still knocking on and now yelling at. 

It took Engie a moment to piece together the charade, but it clicked soon enough and his expression flickered from annoyance to reluctant acceptance. “Neither of ya carry money?” His Pyro shook their head, shrugging, while the RED’s pyro laughed guiltily. 

“Hr hrr hrrf hrrnt hrt hrr.” (I may have burnt it all.) 

Engie looked between both mask wearers whom he expected were giving him pleading looks based off their postures alone, and shook his head. “A’right. Jus’ this once.” The Texan couldn’t believe he was agreeing to pay for not only his pyro, but the RED’s as well, but, well, here he was, agreeing to do just that. 

“Hurrr hurrrr!” (Thank you!) 

As the BLU’s engineer was picked up in a crushing hug from his teammate, Soldier was still yelling at the unresponsive ice cream truck. “OPEN UP, I WOULD LIKE TO PURCHASE YOUR ENTIRE STOCK.” He banged on the shutters, receiving no response as the music continued to blare. 

“I believe hitting ze button would help, non?” Spy, sick of watching Soldier ignore the clear signage pointing towards a doorbell looking button next to the metal shutters, said. The Frenchman pushed the brutish soldier to the side and stepped forwards, pressing the button for a moment before retreating a step. 

Just as Spy was about to get an earful from Soldier, the music of the truck cut off, leaving an awkward silence that was filled only by the sounds of the two scouts fighting. After another moment, the metal shutters flew up in a loud and clattering manner, silencing the two scouts as they paused in their fight with the BLU wrestling against a headlock by the RED. 

A gangly man with bright pink, fluffy hair and a white and pink pinstripe suit on stood behind the window, smiling out at the RED and BLU mercenaries. “Well hello, hello.” Blue eyes drifted towards the two scouts still caught in an awkward pose. The BLU scout quickly shoved his opponent off, face flushing as he coughed and brushed himself off. 

“Da hell you lookin at, weirdo?” Scout mumbled, looking down towards his hands as he focused on redoing the wrappings on them. 

“No one can understand yer mumbles, pal.” The RED scout provoked his BLU counterpart, earning a punch towards his jaw. The two began wrestling again. 

“Well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I didn’t come in the middle of a battle, did I? I was told I would have time to advertise my wares before the next one began.” The pink man said, seeming to fret a bit over the thought. 

“No, zose two never get along. Jou know about our battles, zough?” The BLU’s medic, finally sick of watching the scouts act like an old married couple, found more interest in the colorful man behind the morning’s interruption. 

“Of course, Francine and I have been good friends for years. It’s only recently she’s gotten her boss’s permission for me to come out here and… add something to all of your days.” The man said dubiously, eyes flickering around the mercenaries before landing back on the medic and giving him a smile. 

“Francine?” Scout sounded confused but was ultimately ignored as a loud buzzer went off inside the truck, making the man start. 

“Yeah, name a yer mom. That lady’s really been gettin around, hasn’t she?” The RED scout tore the BLU’s attention away from the truck, a cocky grin on his face that seemed to magnetically attract his counterpart’s fist. 

“Ah! Almost time for me to go and I haven’t even given a sample of my wares yet! Now, who would like some ice cream?” Both Pyros’ hands raised, but Soldier beat them to it. 

“I WOULD LIKE SOME GOOD OLD FASHIONED AMERICAN ICE CREAM. NONE OF THAT ITALIAN CRAP.” Soldier demanded, earning a few eyerolls from teammates and enemies alike. 

“Aw, too bad, gelato is some of my favorite. That’s alright though, we all have our tastes and I most certainly have just the thing for you.” The man winked a bright blue eye before turning his back and shuffling around inside the truck. Soldier grunted, shifting in place while he, and everyone else, waited. 

“Good old fashioned hard packed vanilla with a burst of flavor from the butterscotch drizzle for our American friend. I do hope you enjoy.” The man said, handing Soldier out the ice cream in a cone. Soldier took it and examined it closely, everyone, other than the two Bostonians, watching curiously to see his reaction. The man in the truck simply smiled and leaned on the windowsill, not seeming to care about wherever else it was he supposedly had to be while he waited for the soldier to taste it. 

“Oh, jus’ get on wit’ it!” Demo cried out, earning a glare from Soldier. Demo’s impatience had worked in urging Soldier to try the ice cream though, and with some hesitance, the American gave it a tentative lick. He was expressionless and Spy could swear he heard the rusty cogs trying to turn in his head. 

“Vell?” Medic urged some sort of reaction, just as curious as everyone else. 

Soldier paused and looked towards the man in the truck who was smiling knowingly back at him. “You’re good.” It wasn’t often Soldier spoke in a normal tone of voice, but it had everyone, even the scouts, in shock. 

“Why thank you.” The man said, breaking the shock in the air. 

“I want some!” 

“No way, chucklehead, I was here first!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may notice, I did my best to split the story up into reasonable chapters without just cutting it off, but it is a little difficult at points without making a chapter exceedingly long or short, so please bear with it and thank you for understanding!


	3. Chapter 3

While the two scouts fought over who would get ice cream first, the BLU’s pyro pulled Engie towards the truck, spurring their RED counterpart to move quickly to catch up. The ice cream man looked towards the two BLUs and the RED as they gathered at his truck’s window and smiled. 

“Hurrhur!” (Hello!) The BLU pyro greeted, their RED counterpart waving in turn. Engie gave a polite nod of his head, not seeming totally at ease with the enemy pyro in such close proximity. 

“Hello, my friends. I’m glad to see some of you get along. Now, before you tell me, I think I may have just the thing for all of you, if I may?” The man asked permission, earning excited nods from both pyros and a hesitant one from the engineer. 

“‘S long’s it ain’t too expensive. Don’t exactly keep the most money on me all tha time.” Engie said, seeming a bit embarrassed as he patted his near empty looking pouch to enunciate the fact. 

The man seemed taken aback for a moment before he blinked and shook his head. “No payment necessary, my friend. These are samples after all and I don’t have much use for money regardless. Now, if I may?” The man asked again, keeping his gaze on the somewhat stupefied Texan. 

“I, uh, yeah, sure, thanks pardner.” Engie agreed, scratching the back of his neck in confusion while the man turned to get whatever it was he planned on serving them. Engie wasn’t sure what to think of the whole situation, but at least the pyros were happy, he guessed. 

“You said you would be coming back, did you not? If money iz not of use to you, what sort of payment do you expect?” Spy spoke up, leaning casually against the side of the truck and watching everything unfold in a calm demeanor no one else could quite pull off. He made a good point, and both Engie and Medic seemed interested in hearing what the pink haired man would say. 

The man turned back with two milkshakes in hand, both in strawberry pink with a heaping helping of whipped cream on top and large straws in both. He handed them to the pyros, both of whom cheered and gave muffled thanks. “I simply wish to change things up, my friend. And the only payment I want is that of the satisfaction of my customers.” He replied, smiling at the two mask wearers before turning to Spy. 

“Bullshit” Spy scowled at the man, pushing himself off the truck and marching to the sill. He pointed an accusing finger at the man who remained still, looking steadily back at the Frenchman. “No one is “paid” through ze satisfaction of ozers! So tell us ze real reason you are here, pink man.” 

“I speak the truth when I say I enjoy making others happy. Though I will admit some of my reason for being here is partly selfish. I simply am sick of the boring life I lead and wish to change things up. When Francine told me I got the job, I thought this was what I had been waiting for, so I took it. And now here I am.” The man paused, glancing back in his truck, and his eyes widened. “I really must go, however. I apologize for cutting this meeting short, but I will be back in due time. Goodbye for now, friends.” 

The man took off his serving hat and made a show of bowing within the truck. Before anyone could say anything more, the shutters slammed down with a loud clang, making everyone jump, and the engine started up. Sniper watched in confused silence in his van as the ice cream truck took off, zooming away in the opposite direction it had arrived in. 

“Yo, wait, I didn’t even get my damned ice cream!” 

“Well, zat was quite ze encounter.” Spy said, gathering himself quickly and straightening out his tie. 

“Indeed. I am curious as to when zis man vill be back and vhat he may bring.” Medic agreed with his team’s spy, seeming intrigued by the whole situation. 

“Yeah, dat freakshow bettah come back. He didn’t even give me my ice cream!” Scout, of course, hadn’t really been listening to his teammate’s conversation, instead upset Soldier and the two pyros had gotten ice cream while he didn’t. 

“No need to fret, son. I’m sure ya don’t need more sugar after all those Cokes yer always drinkin.” Engie said, chuckling at the younger merc’s misfortunes. 

“It’s called soda, hardhat!” The RED scout called out, sending a glare towards the BLU engineer. For once, his counterpart seemed to be in agreement with him. 

“Heh, if ya say so, string bean. Where I’m from, they’re called Cokes.” 

“For da last time, Coke is a brand! It ain’t a term for all sodas!” The BLU scout argued with the Texan, the RED scout also adding in his own two cents from time to time. 

“I go back to base now.” The RED team’s heavy told no one in particular, though Demo heard and nodded, deciding it was the best choice for himself as well. 

“Good idea, lad. No point standin’ round like a buncha numpties after all.” Both RED team members began the walk back to their base, leaving the rest of the mercenaries on their own in the middle of Teufort. 

“Hrrs hrs hrrrhr hrrd!” (This is really good!) The RED’s pyro said, holding up their half finished milk shake. 

“Uh huh!” Their BLU counterpart agreed wholeheartedly, their own milkshake already gone besides the residue on the sides of the cup. Looking between the RED pyro’s milkshake and their own, the BLU’s pyro realized something with a start. “Hr hurrhur hurfhrd Hunhr hnhr! Hrm hr hurrhrbrr hurnd.” (I never offered Engie any! I’m a terrible friend.) They lamented, shoulders sagging in defeat. Their RED companion patted their shoulder consolingly. 

“Hr hrn hrrfr hrn.” (I can offer mine.) The RED pyro offered, shaking their still half full cup for effect. Their BLU counterpart merely looked more defeated at that, head drooping even more. 

“Hurrs hrt hur hurrm.” (It’s not the same.) 

“Hrm hrnhr hr hrr hrnhrhr, hrhrt? Hrbr hrrn hr hrn hr hrrnds hrr!” (I’m going to try anyway, okay? Maybe then we can be friends too!) The RED pyro said, earning a dejected nod from their counterpart. They patted them on the back one last time before moving off towards Engie. 

“Hrnhr!” (Engie!) The RED pyro’s call got the Texan’s attention. Engie was laughing, wiping away a tear at the corner of his eye as the scouts argued with Soldier who had butted into the conversation and called soda something as absurd as “pop”. 

“Heh heh, what can I do ya for, Pyro?” He asked, smiling as he looked up at the RED mercenary. His gaze drifted and, before Pyro could explain anything, the Texan saw his teammate moping in the background and tensed up, fixing the RED pyro with a glare. “What did ya do ta mah teammate? An’ it better be a good answer, cause I don’t take too kindly ta people messin with ma folk.” 

Noticing both the BLU team’s spy and medic watching them suspiciously as well as Engie, the RED’s pyro quickly shook their head, waving their hands in front of them to try and dissipate the tension. “Hrnhrrn. Hrrr hrmhrrk hrn hrt. Hrhr!” (Nothing. Their milkshake ran out. Pyro!) The RED pyro called back to their counterpart, gesturing for them to join. Slowly, the BLU pyromaniac joined the small group, still gripping their empty cup regretfully. 

“What’s wrong there, Pyro? This RED feller didn’t getcha down, now did ‘e?” Engie asked, his tone softening around his teammate but still carrying an edge to it when he mentioned the enemy pyro. 

Pyro shook their head, making a show of turning their milkshake cup upside down only for a few drops of melted ice cream to roll out. “Ah, well don’t be too sad over drinkin all that. The man said ‘e’d be back an’ I right reckon he likes tha two a ya’s, so ye’ll get yerself another one.” Despite it not being exactly why his teammate was sad, it seemed Engie’s words still made them happier. 

“Hr hurmhurrs hr hurr hurrr hurst hrm!” (I promise I will share next time!) The BLU pyro said cheerily, catching the Texan in a tight hug. Engie chuckled, patting his teammate’s back. 

“Well, ‘m glad yer back, Pyro. Now what’s it ya came over here fer, RED?” There was no maliciousness in the engineer’s tone when he addressed the RED pyro this time around, only a crooked smile adorning his face when he was released from the hug. 

It took a moment for Pyro to gather their thoughts and remember why it was they had come over here in the first place. At seeing their BLU counterpart shake their empty cup as a reminder, it clicked, and Pyro held the half full milkshake out towards Engie. They tilted their head as Engie looked first at the cup and then at them, seeming to assess if this was some sort of trick or not. He glanced towards his pyro who encouraged him with a nod and thumbs up. “Well, if’n yer sure ya wanna share. Never did get my servin, after all.” 

While Engie accepted the milkshake, both the BLU medic and spy decided there were better things to be doing and silently agreed to return to base. Once back they broke off to do their own things, and it wasn’t long before Soldier and Scout were returning to base once the RED scout decided he was bored and had better things to do than argue with “a buncha BLU idiots”. That didn’t mean either Soldier nor Scout were giving up on the argument and both continued to bicker the entire way back to base. 

The red clad sniper watched from his van as the BLU’s engineer and pyro remained with his team’s pyro, apparently sharing a milkshake. It seemed they were all getting along well, which was a shame since they were on opposite teams. It didn’t bother Sniper either way, friends or enemies, they were still target practice. A cramp in his abdomen pulled the Australian out of his thoughts. Sniper stood with a hand on his stomach, cursing silently as he shuffled towards the back of his van to relieve the pain. 

“Hoowee, that is somethin else, I’ll tell ya.” Engie said, impressed over the taste of the milkshake. He could see how his pyro finished their’s off so quickly and he was a little more jealous that he hadn’t gotten one of his own before the man left so quickly. The Texan was, of course, still wary about the whole situation, but he couldn’t deny the facts. That man knew how to make some damn good ice cream and by god if his next death was because of diabetes, then so be it. 

But, Engie restrained himself from finishing off the milkshake and handed it back to its original owner after a few meaningful sips. “Thank ya kindly, Pyro. Unfort’nately I gotta get goin’. Best a’ luck in our next battle.” Engie said, grinning towards the RED mercenary and tipping his helmet. The Texan began walking off, leaving the two pyromaniacs to say their own goodbyes before his pyro was rushing to catch up to him. Engie politely slowed down to wait for his teammate, and both BLUs walked back to base together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, why do they call it Coke in the south? Anyways, that's the end of the fluffy pre-battle stuff, next chapter will be getting into the fight for the intelligence. Nothing very gory or overly explicit I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

“Mission begins in sixty seconds.” The administrator’s voice came over the loudspeakers set up throughout the entirety of Teufort. 

Both teams were rushing around, setting up their defenses and strategizing the best way to secure their enemy’s intelligence. None of the mercenaries knew exactly what was in the briefcases they were hired to protect, but most of them didn’t care. All that really mattered was beating the other team. 

“Scout, jou know vhat to do by now, ja?” The RED team’s Medic spoke to the Bostonian, giving him a sidelong look that told the cocky youngster he had better answer in the affirmative. 

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. Let you guys distract dose BLU idiots, I go t’rough the sewers and snag deir intelligence before dey even know I’m missin.” Scout summarized, waving his free hand through the air. The other hand was gripping onto the scattergun resting against his shoulder and both his pistol and bat were in easy access should he need them. 

Most of Scout’s team was outfitted similarly with their own weapons, the only one still gearing up being the drunk Scotsman. After the ice cream truck had left and Demo returned to base, the Scot took Spy’s advice and drank himself into his typical oblivion. After all, the greatest cure to a hangover was never getting one. 

Over in the BLU base, things were a bit more hectic. “Why are we nevah told about dis shit before hand!” Scout was scrambling to gather his weapons in the short amount of prep time they had. Many of his teammates were collecting themselves in a much calmer manner. 

“YOU SHOULD ALWAYS BE PREPARED FOR BATTLE, MAGGOT!” Soldier, who was refilling his rocket launcher from his earlier excursion with it, replied. 

“Can it Soldier.” Scout shot back, slinging his bat over his shoulder. He pocketed a baseball and a can of Bonk! before grabbing his gun. 

Spy rolled his eyes, flipping his butterfly knife restlessly. “Regardless of preparations, we all know ze plan, correct?” Engie nodded, his toolbox resting on his shoulder, and Pyro gave a thumbs up from beside him. Spy returned a nod to the two of them before eyeing Scout, raising a brow when the younger merc didn’t reply right away. 

Scout groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you getta get da intelligence. It’s my job ta run it back ta base when you get it out.” 

“JUST LIKE A FRENCHMAN TO TAKE AN AMERICAN’S JOB.” Soldier put in his two cents, being mostly ignored. 

“Yes, well we all know why Scout doesn’t get ze privilege of getting ze enemy intelligence, don’t we?” Spy snarked, all too happy to take the opportunity to rag on the Bostonian. 

“It ain’t my fault Heavy wasn’t layin down enough cover fire!” And Scout was all too quick to put that blame on anyone else. 

“Killing leettle men is not Heavy job. Do not place blame!” Heavy defended, pointing a dangerous finger at the much smaller mercenary. Scout smacked Heavy’s hand away, opening his mouth to argue when the administrator’s voice came over the speakers again. 

“Mission begins in ten seconds.” 

~~

“Go, go, go!” 

“Follow me, doktor!” 

“Jawohl” 

“Sentry goin up.” 

The sounds of gunfire and battle filled Teufort. Both teams of mercenaries had been through this song and dance time and again, but that didn’t stop any of them from giving it their all. 

“Spy’s sappin my sentry!” The BLU’s engineer called out, his PDA alerting him to the rapidly decreasing health of his machine. He had only just gotten it to level two when he needed to pick up more metal for it, which, of course, was the perfect time for the enemy spy to ruin his hard work. 

“God dangit, where’s that darn pyro? Pyro!” Engie called out as he neared the area he had set up in. Pyro was supposed to be there protecting his machines, but the situation with Spy left Engie a little miffed. 

“Ya call that snipin’?” The RED’s sniper asked aloud, chuckling and shaking his head at his adversary’s missed shot on one of his teammates. Since the BLU’s sniper had foolishly made his position known, it didn’t take long for Sniper to train his sights on his counterpart. 

Sniper grinned when his opponent went cross eyed to look at the red dot aimed carefully at his forehead before he dropped dead to the ground. “Hahaha! AGHH!!” Sniper’s triumph didn’t last very long as the BLU’s spy ran by and stabbed him in the back. 

“Sorry bout that, mate.” Spy mocked the dead man as he flicked open his disguise kit to assume the RED merc’s appearance. With the protection of appearing as a RED, Spy continued on his way to the RED’s intelligence, avoiding as many of his “teammates” as possible. 

“That sniper’s a spy!” The RED’s sniper, as luck would have it, yelled out as he came fresh from respawn. As luck would also have it, the RED team’s Pyro had just respawned as well. 

“Oh no” 

“I appear to have burst into flames. AAHHHH!!” The RED team’s engineer heard Spy’s screams even from his place in the intelligence room. He chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up a beer and took a long sip. Engie really didn’t know why everyone was always rushing around trying to “complete the mission” when all they had to do was just sit back and let the machines do the work. That’s what machines were made for after all. 

Engie took another sip of beer as his sentry beeped, locking onto the foolish scout that thought he could outrun such precision engineering. 

A smack upside the head was awaiting the BLU team’s scout when he respawned. 

“Ah! What da hell, Spy?” Scout scowled at the Frenchman, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head. Spy glared back at him, looking down his nose at the shorter mercenary. 

“You know exactly “what da hell”, you are not supposed to enter ze base! We discussed zis, Scout.” 

“Didn’t see you doin much bettah, pally.” Scout grumbled back, moving to leave the respawn and resupply room. Spy put an arm out to stop him, earning another glare from the younger man. 

“We discussed ze plan, Scout, and for it to work, I need you to help me carry it out.” Spy said, a sigh in his voice as he spoke. As annoying as Scout was to work with, he did have value within the team. He just needed to learn to work better in a group, one in which he couldn’t always be the star. 

“So now ya need my help, huh?” Scout snarked, resting his gun against his shoulder as he cocked a brow at Spy. 

“Scout.” Scout rolled his eyes, shifting his gun back into both hands. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it Spy. Go do yer thing, I gotch’ya back dis time.” 

“Thank you, Scout.” 

“Don’t go gettin all sappy on me, we haven’t won yet.” With nothing else to say and the sound of the respawn system kicking up urging the two into motion, the BLU’s spy and scout left the resupply room.

“Go ‘ome, lassie, men are fightin’ ‘ere!” The RED’s demo drunkenly called to the BLU team’s pyro, who was very intent on blowing all his bombs right back at him. Pyro didn’t grace the man with a response, making the Scot, in all his hazy destruction, wonder if that did mean Pyro was female. After all, they didn’t negate his claims, nor did they affirm them, really, that pyro could be anything and Demo might never know. 

“Pyro!” Both RED and BLU mercenaries, in their stalemate of a battle that would only be determined when someone ran out of ammo first, heard the shout. Demo laughed, thinking the distraction was just what he needed to get the upper hand on the pyromaniac only to have his bombs air blasted right back at him again. 

“Ugh!” 

“Hunhr!” (Engie!) Even in his drunken stupor, Demo knew when he was outnumbered. With no sentry or dispenser to worry about, the BLU’s engineer soon answered Pyro’s muffled shout with a shotgun pointed at the RED merc. 

“Cripes-” With a well placed shot, Demo’s rain of destruction was over, leaving a momentary peace only broken by Pyro’s heavy breathing. Engie patted his companion’s shoulder, getting the other’s attention. 

“Ya didn’t happen ta get that dern Spy, didja?” Pyro shook their head and Engie clicked his tongue, sighing. “Guess we ain’t outta the waters yet, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoowee kiddos prepare for the POV to switch between as many characters as possible without warning. Yes it's choppy but I stick by my choices because I think it, in a way, represents the hectic feeling of battle itself, but maybe I'm just making excuses to validate myself. We may never know


	5. Chapter 5

The RED’s scout splashed through the dirty waters of the sewers, watching out for any sign of the enemy team. So far his job had been pretty easy. He had had to kill a few of the enemy team that stood in his way here, but Scout was more than happy to put the BLU team in their places. “Heh, dose suckahs nevah saw it comin’.” Scout reminisced, grinning as he rounded the corner into the BLU’s parts of the sewers. 

“What da-? Pyro? Da hell’re you doin here?” The cogs in Scout’s brain were turning as he saw his teammate ahead of him in the tunnels, gripping onto their broken neon sign. The RED pyro froze when they saw Scout, snapping out of it a little too slowly. 

“Hrthr hrr hrrn hrr?” (What’re you doing here?) Pyro questioned back, their attention seeming to shift between Scout and somewhere behind him. 

Scout was about to turn around and see just what his teammate was looking at when a muffled sound from somewhere above them made him pause. “You hear dat too, right?” The Bostonian could almost swear it sounded like the jingle of the ice cream truck again, but the man would have to be insane to come back in the middle of a battle. Pyro paused as well and tilted their head, listening intently. 

“Hrrs hrrrm?” (Ice cream?) Before Scout could speak again, a splitting pain shot through his skull, the sound of wood on flesh following him as his vision went black. 

“Hah, I oughta be on a baseball card!” The blue clad scout jeered, prodding the floating body of his opponent with a foot. The RED pyro shook their head, removing Spy’s disguise kit from their pouch and flicking it open. After pressing a button, the disguise disappeared in a show of smoke, leaving the BLU’s spy to shoot Scout a deadpan look. 

“What? You weren’t makin a move ta kill ‘im.” The Bostonian said, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Perhaps not in ze moment, but we could 'ave gotten valuable information from 'im.” Spy returned, flicking open his disguise kit once again to retrieve a cigarette. Glancing down at the dead body of their opponent and grimacing, Spy clicked a button in his kit, smoke surrounding him and leaving the RED’s scout standing in his place. He crouched down, grabbing the other scout’s gun and cocking it. Scout watched, a cocky grin on his face that Spy scowled at. “Don’t just stare at me, dumbass, let’s get a move on!” 

“Where iz zat damn scout?” The RED team’s spy cursed out his apparently inept teammate, flipping a kunai in his hands. After getting Demo to distract the BLU’s pyro from camping their sentry, Spy had risked his neck to destroy the machines and had managed it before the engineer could even get back. 

But his luck didn’t keep up, since the BLU’s engineer came from the door opposite Spy and the Frenchman didn’t have time to take him out before he got to Demo. After that there was no way in hell Spy was going up against both Pyro and the engineer, so he vacated the area to try and aid the rest of his team instead. He was still cursing Scout out though, since the enemy almost certainly had even more defenses up now thanks to the failed stunt. 

The BLU team’s sniper returned to his vantage point after getting back from respawn, crouching down and resting his gun against the boxes he was using as cover. The Australian looked down his sights, taking mental notes of the battle. 

At the moment it seemed as though both teams were at a stalemate, the more aggressive classes, namely Heavy with Medic, Soldier, and the demo of both sides on the battlefield duking it out. Sniper also noted they were a bit outnumbered at least on the surface, since the RED’s pyro was out and burning down his teammates while their pyro stayed back with their engineer. 

A noise behind Sniper had him jumping up and spinning around with his kukri out of his hip sheath in a millisecond. Sniper’s own eyes stared back at him, widening behind his aviators as his cocky smile fell. Sniper grinned and with a powerful swing had the RED spy’s body crumpling to the ground. “Heh, cocky wanker. Think ya’d learn that I know ya tricks by now.” The sound of the dead ringer disabling and Spy’s cough from behind him had Sniper cursing his luck. “Piss.” 

“Hur hur hrr hrrt?” (Do you hear that?) The BLU’s pyro asked, their head tilting at the sound they thought they heard beyond Engie’s machines beeping. It almost sounded like the ice cream truck’s jingle from earlier, slowly getting closer. 

“What’s that, Pyro?” Engie asked back, moving away from his sentry to stand with his teammate. Pyro looked at him, head still tilted as they gestured to the world beyond their base. 

“Hurs hurrm?” (Ice cream?) Engie paused, head tilting slightly as he listened as well. 

“Huh. I think ya may be right, Pyro.” 

“Scout, go to enemy base and get intelligence!” The RED’s heavy yelled at his teammate, looking down at the smaller merc. He had just gotten back from respawn after his medic had to go heal a teammate and the enemy medic and heavy duo filled him with lead. Needless to say, Heavy wasn’t in the best of moods. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m goin, I’m goin. Just needed to get some ammo.” Scout retorted, rolling his eyes as he waved a hand through the air. Heavy’s eyes narrowed, chin tilting up as he pointed towards the ammo kit just behind the Bostonian. Scout glanced behind him, masking his surprise. “Yeah, thanks, fatty. Don’t you got bettah things ta be doin’?” The young merc asked, turning to face the Russian again with a raised brow. 

Heavy raised a brow right back at the Bostonian, shifting into a more comfortable stance. “Getting intelligence is most important, da? Making sure you do job is most important for Heavy at moment.” The Russian made a good point and Scout scowled, turning to pick up the ammo kit and refill his weapon, knowing when he was defeated. 

“I’m goin, I’m goin, ya don’t gotta babysit me!” The BLU’s scout watched as his team’s spy, still wearing his counterpart’s visage, was lead straight out of the RED base by none other than the tank of the RED team. Heavy chuckled and both team members knew the Russian was playing Spy. 

“I believe Scout needs escort to make sure he does job, da?” Spy’s look of annoyance dropped into a scowl as he dropped the shotgun and whipped the butterfly knife out of his pocket. Scout jumped down from his hiding place, swinging his baseball bat off his back and pulling the baseball out of his pocket. 

“Batter up!” Scout tossed the baseball into the air, dropping into a batter’s stance and sending the ball straight towards Heavy’s head. Spy took the opportunity to duck behind the large Russian, decloaking with a twisted grin on his face as he plunged the knife into the RED’s back. A cry of agony left the large man as he crumpled to the ground, leaving Spy to grimace at the blood on his knife and Scout to recollect his baseball. 

Sniper heard the sound of Heavy’s gun unrevving without having sent off a single shot, followed by his teammate’s cry of pain. Scanning the environment below his vantage point, he spotted the BLU’s scout and spy, who was cloaking to appear like the large Russian. The Australian smirked, lining his sights up with the suddenly much larger target. Scout saw the red dot on his teammate’s forehead and Sniper heard his muttered “aw crap” before Spy’s body fell to the ground. Scout didn’t make it very far away before he, too, dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've played TF2 (and... shudder... 2fort), so I know this isn't "typically" how the battles happen and I know I miss a lot of stereotypes in the scenes, but normal battle stuff is happening outside of the scenes, what's written is just what flowed best for me~


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First intel grab of the battle! Scary- I also want to clarify that I'm only going to one capture, because it makes more sense realistically, so this is for all the marbles, kids. Which team will win?

“I am fully charged!” The RED medic’s shout seemed to fill the battlefield, a grin on his face as he followed after his team’s soldier. Yes, he may have let his heavy die, but there was nothing quite like damage boosted rockets. 

“LET’S GO, DOC.” Soldier called back to the medic, leading the way straight towards the enemy base. While Soldier was by no means smart in any definition of the word, he did have decent tactical awareness and was waiting to ask for the charge for the right moment. 

Medic’s grin widened as he nodded, all too happy to comply. He absolutely despised his teammates who would ask for the charge just because they could, so the German had taken to staying with his teammates who were at least somewhat competent battle wise. That did mean Scout and Demo died a lot more, but that was really their own fault. 

“Need a dispenser here!” The RED’s scout shouted, frowning at his team’s engineer who couldn’t seem to be bothered about the battle at all. The Texan sipped from his beer before placing it on the table built into his chair. 

“Nah” Engie denied, shaking his head. He was still holed up comfortably in their base’s intelligence room, his sentry beeping quietly in the corner. 

“We’re dyin out dere!” Scout argued, getting nowhere as the Texan shrugged. Scout groaned, dragging a hand down his face before flipping the lazy engineer off and leaving the room. Engie merely chuckled, picking up his beer and taking another sip. 

“Hurnhrmhrn!” (Incoming!) Pyro shouted, dropping their stance as they spotted the RED soldier and medic duo. Both REDs grinned, knowing the BLU pyromaniac was out matched in the small corridor where the rockets were almost guaranteed to hit. 

“Auf wiedersehen, dummkopf!” Medic jeered, activating the charge on his kritzkrieg. 

“Hurs hrs hurnr hr hurrt” (This is going to hurt) There wasn’t much even Pyro’s air blast could do to stop the supercharged rocket from hitting the ceiling above their head and detonating. 

Engie flinched at the sound of the rocket exploding and knew from the jeers of Soldier and Medic that Pyro hadn’t managed to survive. “Damnit! I need some doggone help!” The Texan’s calls weren’t answered as the enemy duo, still topped off on deadly supercharge, exited the tunnel. Engie’s sentry beeped and began firing at Soldier and Medic, but two well placed rockets had it in pieces before it could finish the job. 

“SURRENDER NOW, MAGGOT, AND YOU WON’T BE HARMED!” Soldier yelled, pointing his launcher at the BLU’s engineer. The Texan knew he didn’t stand a chance even as the crazy doctor’s charge ran out, but like hell he was going to just sit by and let them take the intelligence. 

Engie spit on the ground in front of him, cocking his shotgun and sneering at the two. “Well, don’t think I’m just gonna sit back and let y’all take the intelligence.” 

“'e appears to be getting closer.” The BLU’s spy, fresh from respawn, said aloud. The Frenchman’s head was cocked to the side, listening intently. The sound of the respawn kicking up again brought Spy out of his thoughts. 

“Godamn campers.” Scout was back from respawn as well and wasn’t very pleased about the death they both just went through. Spy shushed him, and the Bostonian was about to retort when the noise became clear to him too. “Is dat-?” 

“Oui, I believe our “friend” ze ice cream man is coming back.” 

“Attention, the enemy has taken our intelligence.” The administrator’s voice had both Scout and Spy gearing up to go, ice cream man entirely forgotten. Before either could leave, the respawn kicked back on, a disoriented pyro taking a step forward to keep balance. 

“Hurnhrt.” (Damnit.) Pyro cursed, shaking their head and taking a few more steps away from the respawn so it would be free for the next unfortunate merc. 

“Yeah, we all go t’rough da same crap. Enemy’s got our intel now so get a move on, mumbles.” Scout informed the mask wearer, cocking his gun and running out of the supply room. Spy nodded towards the pyromaniac before disappearing in a cloud of smoke, the door to the resupply room opening and closing being the only sign of the Frenchman’s exit. 

The respawn kicked back on just as Pyro was about to follow their teammates out of the door and they paused. They had a pretty good idea of who it was respawning only a few seconds after them. 

Engie stepped out of the respawn, rubbing at his temples. “Godamn, that never gets easier.” The Texan looked up, noticing his teammate standing at the door to the resupply waiting for him. “Ah, thanks fer tryin’, Pyro. Don’t really help none that we were left ta defend the intel all on our own, eh?” 

Pyro shook their head, mumbling something indecipherable. “Hurr hurv hr hurnhrhurhrns.” (They have our intelligence.) Pyro spoke up again, gesturing with their left hand towards the wall. 

“Damn, they’re quick. Well, we won’t make it easy for ‘em.” Engie understood his teammate and the situation well enough to quickly piece together what had happened between his untimely demise and miraculous revival. The Texan grinned as he cocked his shotgun. “Let’s get ‘em, pardner.”


	7. Chapter 7

“SCREAMIN’ EAGLES!” The BLU’s soldier screamed, flying through the air as a result of his rocket jump. 

After his team’s heavy and medic had been killed by the enemy heavy and demo, Soldier had killed the two REDs, leaving him alone on the battlefield since Demo had already retreated to help get their intelligence back. When he landed, Soldier picked up a nearby health kit to heal his wounds. 

Now that it was relatively quiet on the battlefield, the American could hear the familiar jingle of the ice cream truck nearing the bases again. “HAH! I’LL BE THE FIRST TO GET ICE CREAM AGAIN!” Soldier realized he had the prime opportunity to be the pink man’s first customer again and launched himself in the direction of the music. 

The RED’s pyro paused in exiting their base, head tilting to the side as they listened to the sound of the nearing jingle. “Hrrs hrrm!” (Ice cream!) 

Originally Pyro had been checking the sewers and the rest of their base to make sure none of the BLU team had snuck in while the rest of their team was at the BLU base, but none had. That or Spy had gotten a fireproof suit of his own, but Pyro doubted that was the case. The Frenchman upheld such a high standard of fashion that practicality was probably the least of his concerns. 

Regardless of spies and their battle sense, Pyro was excited to get more ice cream. Yes, they were in the middle of battle, but their team was doing well without them so far so it couldn’t hurt to stop really quick and get something. After all, their engineer was just sitting around, so Pyro felt like they should get a bit of a free pass for pausing for ice cream. 

With the idea justified in their mind, the pyromaniac of the RED team nodded determinedly to themself and headed off in the direction of the music. 

The one eyed wonder, as the BLU’s demoman liked to call himself, finished off the ring of sticky bombs surrounding the doorway to their base. He could hear the commotion inside, which drowned out the sound of the ice cream truck passing by the BLU base, and waited. 

It was almost too perfect when Soldier and Medic walked through the doorway, the blue briefcase that contained the BLU’s secrets strapped to the American’s back. 

“KaBOOM!” Demo couldn’t help but shout, laughing aloud as the bombs detonated and exploded little bits and pieces of RED merc everywhere. Miraculously, the briefcase was unharmed. 

“The enemy has dropped our intelligence.” 

“Hah! Thanks for givin’ da intelligence ta someone who can actually run, cyclops!” Demo didn’t even have time to enjoy his explosive kills before the RED team’s Scout ran by and snagged the intelligence right from under his nose. 

“The enemy has taken our intelligence.” 

“What-” Demo also didn’t have time to finish his thought as his team’s scout ran out of the base shortly after, glowering as he stopped to fish the baseball from his pocket and throw it into the air. Pyro followed after Scout, moving up behind him and stabbing the young merc in the back before the baseball could even complete its arc. Scout fell with a scream of pain and the now undisguised RED spy cackled. 

Spy didn’t get long to laugh though, since the BLU’s actual pyro, along with the engineer and spy exited the base shortly after Scout’s untimely demise. The BLU’s spy didn’t stay for long, running past his counterpart who was a threat he deemed already dealt with. “Get a move on!” The Frenchman yelled at the stunned Scot, spurring Demo into motion. 

“Aye!” Both BLUs ran off in the direction of the RED base, heading after the enemy scout to hopefully get their intelligence back. The RED’s spy was about to make his own getaway when the sound of the pilot light on Pyro’s flamethrower had him freezing in place, cocky grin long gone as his face paled. 

“Oh, merde.” 

“Grab on, lad!” The BLU’s demo shouted to his teammate beside him. Both he and Spy were struggling even to keep up with the far away back of the RED’s scout, there was no way they were going to catch up to him in time to get their intelligence back. The Frenchman looked at him like he was insane. 

“What?” 

“We’re not gointa catch ta scout on foot.” Demo said, expression quite serious for the typically easy going or drunk Scot. Spy’s brows knitted together in momentary confusion, before his expression lit up with understanding and then dread upon feeling Demo’s arm wrap around his midsection. 

“NO, LET ME GO, YOU INSANE SCOTTISH DRUNKARD!” To those who were still alive and on the ground outside, looking upwards would reveal the source of the screaming as two blue clad mercenaries flew through the air over Teufort’s bridge. 

“HAHAHA, WHOOO!” 

The RED team’s scout was one of those people as he paused in the doorway to his base, looking back and slowly moving his gaze up towards the sky. “Aw, crap.” 

“The enemy has dropped our intelligence.” 

The RED’s pyro was another one of those people (or creature) to look up at the sound of the overhead screaming. They cringed at the sound of Scout’s screams followed by the announcer’s voice informing them they had dropped the intelligence. 

About to turn around and try and recover the intelligence after poor Scout’s demise, a rocket exploded at Pyro's feet, eliciting a shocked noise from the RED merc. 

“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING, SALLY? THAT ICE CREAM IS MINE!” The BLU’s soldier shouted at the pyromaniac, aiming his launcher at the enemy’s chest. Before he had a chance to fire, said ice cream truck came barreling towards the two and both dove out of the way as it came to a skidding halt. Pyro and Soldier shared a momentary glance, the fear for both their lives bringing them closer in the moment. 

The moment passed in a millisecond, however, as the truck’s music abruptly cut off and the administrator’s voice crackled over the loudspeakers, earning the attention of everyone in and outside of the bases. “Mercenaries,” It was odd for her to ever address all the mercenaries as a whole, she would often address one team at a time, “a new element has been added to your battle. The ice cream truck in the middle of the map will provide you with… special… ice cream that will only be available to you once per battle. Using the service is up to all of you.” With that, the speakers crackled out, leaving silence on the battlefield. 

“I WILL CLAIM THE FIRST SPECIAL ICE CREAM FOR MYSELF AND FOR AMERICA!” The BLU soldier yelled, picking himself up off the ground, ultimately ignoring his RED rival as he snickered to himself and approached the truck. He banged on the shutters for a moment, yelling “OPEN UP”, before he recalled what Spy had done earlier to get it open. In a moment of genius, Soldier pressed the buzzer to the side of the shuttered window and stood back, eagerly awaiting this “special” ice cream he was going to get. 

The RED’s pyro stood as well, more slowly than Soldier, and dusted themself off before picking up their fallen weapon. While it occurred to them that they could get rid of the loud mouthed American, they brushed the thought off and stood patiently behind the BLU, more curious to see what this “special” ice cream would be. 

Like the last time, the shutters clattered up noisily, the pink haired and suited man standing behind with a smile on his face. “Hello, my friends, apologies for the late arrival. What can I get you?” 

“I WOULD LIKE ONE OF YOUR SPECIAL ICE CREAMS, PLEASE AND THANK YOU!” Soldier ordered loudly, remembering his manners at the end. The man’s smile widened, blue eyes shining as he nodded. 

“But of course. In fact, I was just getting my sign made to advertise my flavors, which is why I ended up here later than I intended.” The man said, turning to rummage in his truck. Soldier shifted restlessly, glancing back towards the RED team’s pyro before turning his attention back to the truck. 

Pyro watched in silence as the ice cream man grabbed something from inside his truck, turning back around and producing a sign that had a list of types of ice cream and flavors available. He put it out on the sill of his window, smiling proudly as both mercs shifted closer to get a better look at it. “Hrrshrr?” (Milkshake?) 

“I WILL ORDER FIRST, SMOKEY JOE.” Soldier shut the RED down, shooting the mask wearer a glare. Even with the mask it was obvious Pyro rolled their eyes, but they stepped back anyways to wait their turn. 

The ice cream man watched the interaction with an unreadable expression before his attention and smile snapped back to Soldier when he began talking. “HMM, I HAD VANILLA THE LAST TIME, SO CHOCOLATE!” Soldier said, a finger raised in finality. 

The man clapped his hands together happily. “Wonderful!” Pulling a lever inside his truck, a pink and white awning sprung out from the roof, a large wheel numbered 1-16 dropping down beside the window with it. Both mercs startled at the sudden show, Pyro letting out a muffled exclamation of surprise and Soldier trying to hide his obvious flinch. 

“Apologies for the surprise!” The man chuckled guiltily, but continued on. “However, you may not have been told, but the ice cream I’m serving now is a bit different to what I typically do. I only offer one per customer during each battle and a, let’s say… special, effect is added to it. The way I determine what effect is added is via this wheel, so if you would like to spin it for me…” The pink haired man trailed off, one hand gesturing towards the wheel as he watched the two in front of him for reactions. 

“Hrshrr hrfrct?” (Special effect?) The RED’s pyromaniac wondered aloud, being all but ignored as Soldier stepped up to the wheel. 

“OKAY!” The ice cream man watched giddily as Soldier put as much force into spinning the wheel as he could, nearly ripping it off the awning in the process. All three watched as the wheel spun once, twice, three times before coming to a slow, clicking stop on the number 12. 

“Oh-hoh! Number 12, a fun number. I’ll get right to work on it.” The man said with a wink. The two mercenaries watched, attempting to peer over the sill as the man turned his back to the two. It didn’t seem as though there was much to see at first, until a flash of green startled both mercs. 

“WHAT WAS THAT?” Soldier asked the question on both their minds as the man turned back around with an innocent looking scoop of chocolate ice cream in a cone. He passed it down to the BLU merc who accepted it skeptically, for once not reprimanding the RED’s pyro for peering over his shoulder at it, both wondering what was wrong with it. 

“Hrt hrs hrt hrrsh?” (What was that flash?) Pyro questioned, looking up from the ice cream to the man who had served it. The man smiled kindly, his head tilting slightly in a mimic of the pyromaniac’s. 

“It was the special effect. After all, they don’t just add themselves. Give it a try, this one won’t hurt you.” Neither of the mercs picked up on the “this one” part of the sentence, rather moving their attention back to the ice cream beginning to melt in the desert heat. The BLU’s soldier glanced towards his opponent who returned the glance before taking a step back.

Soldier looked back down at his ice cream, now dripping down the cone and onto his hand, and slowly brought it to his mouth. There was a moment of obvious hesitation on Soldier’s part before he just went all in and took a large bite out of the ice cream. 

While Pyro was cringing internally, Soldier chewed thoughtfully, staring hard into the bite mark. “I don’t see any special effects!” 

“Hrrt?” (What?) Pyro’s head shot up at the sound of Demo’s voice, confusion clouding the mask wearer’s mind as their team’s demoman stood right where the enemy soldier had been. 

“Why in the name of sweet liberty do I sound like a Scotch son of a bitch?!” It was true, Soldier did sound a lot like Demoman, except without the accent, which only made the situation all the odder. Soldier was just as startled at the sudden development as Pyro was, ice cream falling from his hand as he saw himself in red clothing. “RED! I’m a traitor to my country!” 

An odd grimace passed over the panicked American turned Scot’s face and the RED’s pyro saw him glance towards them, one eye travelling down to their waist. Pyro followed the other’s gaze to where their flare gun was resting, tucked into their belt. 

“Hr!” (No!) Pyro said, shaking their head and backing away from Soldier. Despite having only one eye, the crazed glint that lit up the American’s expression was obvious. Soldier dove for the pyromaniac, Pyro jumping to the side to avoid the man’s grab. “Hrt hrhr hrm hr!” (Get away from me!) 

“Give it here, Sally! I will NOT disappoint Uncle Sam again!” 

“Well, I didn’t expect this to get out of hand this early on.” The man in the truck mumbled to himself, watching as the RED’s pyro ran the BLU turned RED in circles. The man coughed, attempting to gain the mercenaries' attention. “Gentlemen,” When neither mercenary so much as looked the pink haired man’s way, he changed his strategy. “Soldier! You are not disappointing your country! Please allow me to explain what happened.” 

“But I am a traitor! Not only am I RED, I am not even from the good old U.S of A anymore!” Soldier argued while continuing to try and snatch Pyro’s flare gun from their waist. At this point the true RED merc had their hands clamped over the gun, hunching over it while Soldier attempted to get past their defense. 

“My friend, the “special effect” of that ice cream was merely to act like a disguise similar to your spy’s. You are still a proud American soldier beneath the red clothing and different skin, except now you can penetrate the forces of those dastardly REDs without their notice.” 

What the man said made Soldier pause and Pyro relaxed at feeling the other merc move off them. Until of course their flare gun was yanked from their belt and aimed at the BLU turned RED’s chin. “I am no two timing spy! I will look my enemy in the eye as I blow them to smithereens!” 

With those final words of glory, Soldier pulled the trigger of the flare gun, the flaming projectile setting him ablaze. 

Demo’s facade disappeared with the smoke emitting from the BLU mercenary. “AHH! FIRE, FIRE!” The flaming mercenary was off like a shot towards the nearest health pack, rocket launcher entirely forgotten during the whole event. Pyro’s gloved hand made a smacking sound as it came in contact with their masked forehead. They mumbled incoherently to themself, shaking their head as they picked up their discarded flare gun. 

“Hm, well, I suppose I was incorrect in saying that effect wouldn’t hurt.” The ice cream man mumbled, making a mental note to no longer advertise in such a manner. His gaze soon moved from the back of his truck where he had watched Soldier run by to the mercenary still present. “Ah! I apologize for that, my friend. I did not expect such a negative reaction from a simple illusion. You still get one spin before the round is over if you’d like to use it.” The man addressed Pyro, looking towards them with a warm smile. Pyro returned the look a bit skeptically, slowly approaching the truck again. 

“Hr hrnt hrnk hrd hrk hr hrhr hrd hr.” (I don’t think I’d make a very good spy.) Pyro said, glancing towards the numbered wheel beside them before looking back towards the man behind the sill. 

The man’s head tilted in a manner similar to when he spoke to the mask wearer before. “Each number corresponds to a different effect. They aren’t all disguises. Some are actually quite useful, I think.” Pyro wasn’t sure if the man could understand them or was just guessing, but they were still skeptical as they looked back at the wheel. 

“Hrm?” (Some?) Pyro questioned aloud. 

“Well some are more trivial than others with effects I wouldn’t quite consider… beneficial in a battle scenario.” Pyro glanced at the man before looking back to the wheel, seeming to really ponder their options. “If you’d like, I can give you something without a special effect. After all, I’d hate to see any of my ice cream end up like that again.” The man said, looking in disappointment towards the melted chocolate puddle and cone on the ground. 

“Hrkr...” (Okay...) Despite the new option, Pyro was still indecisive. After a moment, they put a hesitant hand up to the wheel and pulled it into a spin with much less force than Soldier had. The ice cream man wasn’t nearly as giddy this time around, instead his interested gaze moving from Pyro to the wheel as it clicked around. 

When it finally came to a stop, the pointer was on the number 14. “Ah! That’s a good one. I won’t spoil the surprise for you, but I will say that this is one of the more battle beneficial ones I was speaking of.” The man said, smiling warmly at Pyro. “Now what type and flavor would you like for it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the BLUs saved it through a very... unconventional method that will certainly leave Spy very wary around Demo in their upcoming battles, but at least they got the intel back. Poor Soldier though, or is it poor Pyro? Either way, I wonder what Pyro got~


	8. Chapter 8

“Our intelligence has been returned.” 

It was a relief for the BLU team to hear those words come over the speakers. Thanks to Demo, the intelligence had made it back safely and fighting picked back up on the battlefield once most of the RED team had respawned. 

It didn’t entirely relieve Engie’s anxieties over the battle though, since now he had the problem of figuring out a better spot to build up his team’s defenses. Thankfully his pyro was with him, spy checking every now and again as they both made their way towards their intelligence room.

The scouts of both teams were cursing their luck as they stepped out of their respective spawns moments after one another.

“I can’t believe I got freakin stabbed by a flyin frog!” The RED scout was not having good luck with the enemy spy today. Usually they barely crossed paths, but today he had gotten tricked by him in the sewers and then when he thinks he’s got the intelligence in the bag, Demo and Spy come out of nowhere and kill him! “Gah!” Scout yelled out his frustrations, punching the metal wall of the resupply room as he left it. “I’m gonna make dose BLUs pay.” 

“Freakin spies.” The BLU scout grumbled to himself as he stepped out of respawn. The phantom pain of the knife in his back still lingered, but he shrugged the annoyance off. He had a job to do and he was put severely behind thanks to the mishap. Scout left the resupply room and headed towards the battlements, intent on getting to the RED base as fast as possible to meet up with his team’s spy.

“Spah’s sappin mah sentry!” The RED team’s engineer jerked to his feet, beer bottle clattering to the floor as he stood up probably for the first time since the match began. He turned quickly, grabbing his wrench and coming face to face with himself leaning against the buzzing gun. His doppleganger smiled at him, cocking his head.

“Why don’t we just give up, pardner?” Spy mocked the lazy Texan, placing another sapper on the sentry as soon as Engineer got the first off.

“Ya damn snake! Fight me like a man!” The RED engineer cursed the Frenchman wearing his face, unholstering his pistol from his belt and shooting a few rounds at Spy. Spy dodged the shots as Engineer’s sentry got all the weaker from the sapper still draining it. Both mercs knew the sentry was going down, and the thought was only solidified when the machine exploded with a loud clang.

Spy smirked, dodging another round of pistol fire from the engineer and picking up the RED briefcase. “Thanks fer the help, pardner.”

“The enemy has our intelligence!” The mercenaries on the field heard the alert loud and clear, bringing a quick tactical retreat for the RED mercs on the field.

Scout continued on anyways, determined to get the BLU’s intelligence back before their intelligence could be taken. What if both teams end up with the other’s intelligence? The thought crossed the Bostonian’s mind briefly before he pushed it aside, shaking his head and running towards the middle of Teufort.

“Wait a minute.” The RED’s scout slowed as he saw the ice cream truck set up off to the side. “It said special effect, right?” Glancing back towards his base where Heavy and Medic had retreated to, Demo and Soldier not too far off and holding off the BLUs, Scout made the decision to make the detour.

When Scout neared the truck, he called out, “Hey! Gimme one a dose special ice creams ya got!” The man in the truck perked up at the sound of the potential customer and peered out to see Scout running towards him. He smiled and gestured towards the wheel as the Bostonian came to a screeching halt in front of his window.

“Just spin this wheel here, please."

“WE’VE GOT THOSE MAGGOTS ON THE ROPES!” The BLU’s soldier, fully healed after the whole event at the ice cream truck, yelled, urging his teammates on the field to push forward. He shot off multiple rockets, not really hitting anyone, but keeping the REDs on the field busy enough to not be able to return to their base to get their intelligence back.

“I AM BULLETPROOF!” Heavy yelled, laughing loudly as Medic pushed forward with the large Russian, both glowing blue from the uber.

“Spy!” The clear Boston accent cut through the chaos unfolding outside the base, and the now uncloaked and undisguised BLU spy looked towards it. His team’s scout was standing at the top of the steps to the RED base, right by their spawn, looking back and forth anxiously. Such a vulnerable spot wasn’t good for the class with the lowest health, but the Bostonian had promised his spy to help him secure the enemy intelligence this time around, so here he was.

Spy nodded, eyes flitting around the area as the red briefcase exchanged hands. “I’ll be right behind you.” The Frenchman promised, earning a quick nod from his teammate as Scout expertly strapped the briefcase to his back before turning and running.

Spy cloaked just in time to go unnoticed by the enemy demo who, presumably, had recently been killed fighting his teammates still outside the base.

“Aye! Scoot, ye’re dun fer!” The Scot called, quick to aim and fire his explosives after the young merc. Thankfully for Scout, none hit him directly, but the slim corridor he was forced to pass through to get back outside kept most of the explosive damage right near him.

“Ah!” Scout’s pained shout was enough distraction for the RED’s demo not to notice the spy uncloaking behind him. Before Demo could finish Scout off, a knife in his back sent him back to respawn.

“Move!” Spy shouted, earning a pained but determined grimace in response as Scout pushed himself off the floor and shakily began moving again.

Spy took a moment to disguise as the RED demoman he had just stabbed, knowing he wouldn’t look too out of place since “he” was supposed to be coming from respawn.

This seemed to make sense to the RED team’s engineer too, who left the respawn a few seconds later grumbling about his loss to the BLU spy. The Texan looked up at his “teammate” who, for only a millisecond he doubted he even saw, seemed surprised to see him. 

Engie frowned at the Scot, pointing with his gloved hand towards the battlements. “Don’t jus’ stand there gawkin’, son! Git that damn intel!”

It took, in hindsight, a suspicious second for Demo to respond with a half salute and loud “aye!” before the Scot took off. Engie watched after his teammate, frowning, before the other man was out of sight. The Texan shook his head to himself, grumbling incoherently beneath his breath as he grabbed his tool box and made his own way out to the battlements.

The poor engineer didn’t make it very far, not even into his teammate’s line of sight, before he dropped to his knees with a cry of pain, toolbox clattering to the ground beside him. “Nice to see you again, labourer! May our next meeting be in hell.” Spy mocked the other man's body, flicking open his disguise kit with practiced ease and, despite the now much more limited time he had before Demo respawned, re-assumed the Scot’s appearance.

The BLU’s sniper, only recently back from respawn and grumbling about his loss to his opponent who always seemed to have time to pick him off despite being on the losing side, propped his rifle on the window ledge. Rather than being in the open like the last time, Sniper decided it was a little safer to be behind some form of cover, plus it was a little easier to aim when he was kneeling and had his rifle propped against something sturdy.

Looking through his sights, the Australian scoped out the battlefield, taking a moment to take in what had changed between his death and revival. It seemed his team was steadily pushing the REDs back to their base, the enemy demo already out of the equation and the soldier nor heavy looking much better. The RED’s medic wasn’t visible from Sniper’s vantage point, but it was clear the doctor was present on the battlefield as the telltale medigun beam jumped from Soldier to Heavy and back again, trying so desperately to resist the harsh push from the BLU mercs.

Sniper had no idea where the RED’s spy or pyro was which was only mildly concerning, but the Australian’s worries were forgotten entirely as he noticed the enemy team’s scout near the ice cream truck… breakdancing? Well, whatever he was doing left him in a vulnerable position, which Sniper gladly capitalized on.

Sniper laughed aloud, not able to help standing and waving sarcastically towards his most recent kill. “Thanks fer standing still, wankah!” The blue clad Australian was so busy relishing in his kill that he didn’t even notice the red dot climbing up his body towards his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the BLUs have the RED intelligence. Will Scout get it back to their base? Why was RED Scout dancing? Will Sniper ever learn not to give away his position? Find out all this and more in the next episode of Dragon Ball Z.


	9. Chapter 9

“HAHAHA!” The red clad pyro seemed to show up out of nowhere, flame thrower held over their head before they ran into battle from behind the enemy, air blasting the BLU team’s medic away from his healing charge and right into the welcoming arms of the RED team’s spy. 

While the Frenchman disposed of the doctor, Pyro turned back around, about to light the BLU heavy up in flames when something seemed to catch their attention. It was only a moment later that anyone who may have been following the pyromaniac’s gaze would see that Pyro had noticed Scout, the RED’s briefcase strapped to his back as he booked it out of the enemy base. 

Just as Pyro lit their flamethrower to take Scout out of the air, Heavy had been given ample time to realize his medic buddy was gone, turn around, and rev his minigun up in the direction of the two offending mercs.

“RUN, COWARDS!” Heavy yelled, giving neither RED the chance to do so as his bullets sprayed the two close range targets, doing maximum damage in a short span of time. It didn’t even take a full twelve seconds before both mercs were down, their cries of pain lost to the screaming of the bullets. 

“YOU JUST LEFT YOURSELF EXPOSED, COMMIE!” Unfortunately for Heavy, since he had turned to deal with the two mercenaries behind him, the three, arguably more powerful, mercenaries were given enough of a break to recuperate and launch a counterattack. The BLU’s tank held his ground as best he could, but without Medic, he, Soldier, nor Demo together could outdeal the enemy’s damage. It wasn’t long before the battlefield was cleared of most of its BLU mercenaries. 

The BLU scout ran across the top of the bridge, his mind clear of anything except for getting the intelligence strapped to his back to their intel room. The sounds of the enemy team clambering to catch up with him only egged him to go faster. The rocket that flew by his face was also fantastic motivation as Soldier screamed behind the Bostonian. 

Scout made it to the end of the bridge in one piece and, without hesitating a second, made the jump from the end of the bridge to the second floor of the BLU base. He ran inside just as another rocket exploded on the wall beside him. 

“GET BACK HERE YOU MAGGOT!” Spy heard his teammate’s screams and saw the BLU scout enter the base and just run right past him without even giving a second glance. The Frenchman grinned to himself, though the facial expression was hidden behind the gasmask of his current disguise. The ignorant Bostonian hadn’t even thought it was odd that his team’s pyro was just waiting at respawn, but that really only made Spy’s job easier, so he wasn’t complaining. 

Spy, or rather “Pyro”, went towards the entrance to the BLU’s intel room that Scout hadn’t used in the hopes of meeting the Bostonian down there rather than trying to catch the fastest mercenary. Soldier probably wasn’t thinking the same thing as Spy, but he, much to Spy’s annoyance, followed the RED merc down the same pathway. 

“You are going to give away my position!” Was what Spy tried to say, though it came out sounding as muffled and indecipherable as the real Pyro’s speech. Soldier merely glanced at his teammate, offering no form of response as he took the lead down the ramp and sent a rocket off as soon as he turned the corner. 

“Help!” The BLU team’s scout shouted, victory so close but so far as the enemy soldier and spy rounded the corner from the other entrance to cut him off. 

Spy had given up on his disguise, deeming it useless since Soldier ruined his chance at stealth, and had his revolver out. Just because he used a knife most of the time didn’t mean he wasn’t a good shot with a gun. Scout returned fire at the two mercenaries, doing his damndest to avoid as much of the explosive damage coming from every direction in the confined space. 

“Hudda hudda huh!” (I’m going to overcook this baguette!) Scout never thought his saving grace would come in the form of a psychopathic pyromaniac, but he would take what he could get. 

For the two RED mercenaries, however, it seemed all too fitting to be confronted with the devil before meeting the fires of hell. “Hur!” (Go!) Pyro instructed the young merc, airblasting a rocket back in its owner’s direction. 

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha!” Scout returned, understanding monosyllables well enough to know what his teammate was telling him. He turned and ran, not even noticing he was saved from a stab in the back as Pyro turned their flames on the un-dead ringering spy. 

“We have secured the enemy intelligence. The battle is over.” The Administrator’s voice rang out throughout Teufort, the sounds of battle slowly dying down with the final announcement. 

“Ha! Good work out there, son!” Engie cheered Scout on, clapping the youngest mercenary on the shoulder with a wide grin on his face. 

“Haha, yeah, thanks!” Scout returned the gratitude with a grin of his own as the adrenaline of battle and high of winning ran through his veins. 

“Aw man, we should celebrate!” Scout said excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet with the smile still glued to his face. It felt so good to know he had helped his team win against the REDs, who were by no means pushovers. It had been a hard battle, but they managed to pull out on top! 

“‘N I think I know jus’ the way ta start off the celebration. First rounda' ice cream’s on me, boys!” Engie declared to both Scout and Pyro who had rejoined the two after taking care of the enemy mercenaries in their base. 

“Hurhr!” (Alright!) Pyro agreed, sounding a bit out of breath as they stuck their thumb up enthusiastically. 

“Didn’t da guy say da ice cream was free?” Scout asked, smile fading as he looked at Engie in confusion. The Texan simply clapped the young merc on the shoulder and smiled at him. 

“Let’s go celebrate, boys!” 

Back in the RED base, many of the RED mercenaries were still filing out of their respawn. A thick silence hung in the air around the team as they gathered outside the respawn doors. Soldier took place at the head of the group, facing the other eight men with a stiff posture and stoic expression. “We failed, men.” 

“I blame dat fuckin’ ice cream man. Fed me so wack shit, ‘m gonna give him a piece a my mind.” Scout spoke first, cracking his knuckles with a glare on his face. The young merc began walking off towards the battlements again, the rest of his team watching after him. 

“I propose ve plan a strategy ze enemy vill not be expecting for ze next time.” Medic proposed as soon as Scout was gone, expression as stoic as Soldier’s. 

“Aye, but we dunnae even know where we’ll be next.” Demo mentioned, making a good point. The map rotation and objectives were fairly random so it was always a guessing game as to where the teams would end up next. 

“And we do not know what ze objective will be eizer.” Spy agreed, flicking his cigarette case open to pull out a stick. He lit it and took a long drag, exhaling in a sigh. 

“Let team rest. One battle lost is not end of world, we will win next.” Heavy spoke up, the typically less spoken Russian commanding attention from the rest of his team. 

“Yeah, we’ll see ‘bout that, mate.” Sniper said, pulling his hat lower as he left the group towards the battlements. 

The Australian’s departure began the dispersion of the rest of the group, first with Spy, then Medic, before being followed by Heavy, Demo, and Engineer. The last two still remaining outside the respawn’s doors were Pyro and Soldier who shared a look before they, too, went their separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's pretty much it kids, an irregular day in Teufort. I may end up writing more in the future, but I also may not, we'll see how I'm feeling. If anyone's curious as to what other spells the ice cream mann had up his sleeve, let me know and I'll post it either in the comments or in a separate chapter with short descriptions I have for each. Regardless, I hope that despite its faults, you enjoyed reading this. Thanks for spending time here!


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